


proof copy

by andnowforyaya



Series: boysclub.com [3]
Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Porn, Angst, Developing Relationship, M/M, Sex Work, sex under the influence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-19 01:32:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2369492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andnowforyaya/pseuds/andnowforyaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A few months after Youngjae meets Daehyun, he tries to figure out what they're doing with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Youngjae has been “getting dinner with Daehyun” for a good three months now and isn’t quite sure where any of this is going. It started with dinner and quickly evolved into coffee dates and going to the movies, holding hands strolling through the park and waking up to kisses and pancakes. Recently, filming wrapped up and there's been a lull before the next project begins. Summer is over and his roommate Jongup is back, and when he shares what’s been going on with him over the past few weeks Jongup’s eyes widen until they are round circles, a strange look on him.

“But he’s a porn star,” Jongup says with his characteristic lack of embellishment. “Isn’t that, like, weird?”

Jongup doesn’t have a malicious cell in his body, so Youngjae knows the comment isn’t meant to prick him the way it does. He’s only curious, and to be honest, Youngjae has been toeing this line of thinking, too. What, if anything, does Youngjae have to offer Daehyun he can’t get somewhere else?

“I don’t know,” Youngjae says with a mouthful of noodles as they slurp ramen on the couch in front of a re-run of a reality show. “Is it?”

“It’s just, like,” Jongup says, wrinkling his nose as he tries to get the phrasing right. “He’s probably had a lot of sex. With other people. On camera. And he’s still having lots of sex with other people on camera while dating _you_. Not that I’m not happy for you, man, but it’s just -- I’ve never thought about this situation before.”

“Yeah,” Youngjae agrees, shoulders sagging. Jongup’s word vomit mirrors his own thoughts. “I get it. I try not to get jealous -- it’s just his job? But, like, I’m also right there when he’s working and I can _see_ everything and I can see how much he enjoys it--”

“Do you feel inadequate,” Jongup asks without guile, interrupting him but at the same time getting right to the point.

“No,” Youngjae bristles, even though the truth is sometimes he does.

Jongup turns back to the television. “So have you seen Junhong lately?” he asks, swerving away from the topic at hand. “I haven’t told him I’m back yet.”

Youngjae sighs.

.

When Youngjae isn’t working for boysclub.com he’s scouring the internet for other job opportunities. The website has offered to take him and rework his contract to give him more hours, but he thinks it’s time to move on. Audio tech isn’t really his thing; he’d gone to school for engineering and wants to find a place that will keep him on his feet and really allow him to apply his skills, even if that means moving across the country.

There’s nothing really tying him to California, anyway. His older brother moved to Australia after he graduated and their parents went back to Seoul when Youngjae graduated, so his roots are a bit scattered. Many of his friends from college moved up the coast to Oregon or Washington or even Vancouver, with a select few aiming to go east.

He’d stayed in the area out of some hope he’d get lucky working for a big name here, but the competition is fierce, and he’s not too confident about his luck.

There’s nothing really tying him to California except -- well, it’s only been three months, hasn’t it? They’ve passed so quickly, but he finds himself wondering more and more if Daehyun is as invested in him as he’s become invested in Daehyun. It’s hard to tell; sometimes it feels like the only thing that’s different about Daehyun’s relationship with Youngjae compared to his relationships with almost everyone else in his life is that he and Daehyun fuck exclusively _off_ -camera.

He’s an outrageous flirt. That first time at dinner, conversation had jumped back and forth between them effortlessly, until Youngjae realized with an embarrassed blush that they were the loudest pair in the whole restaurant. Daehyun had laughed. “They’re jealous they’re not the one in this seat, across from you.” Then he’d turned right around and made eyes at the waiter when he brought them the check.

He’s also a sweetheart. He’d brought the whole staff cookies once for a shoot, homemade and everything, and handed Youngjae a separate batch entirely, the cookies shaped into little spaceships. “You said you played Starcraft,” he’d said, shrugging.

He prefers dogs to cats but is scared of the bigger ones that bark. Even though he’s lived in the city since college, there’s always a new restaurant he wants to try. He likes going to the beach to feel the sand between his toes. “Reminds me of home,” he says.

It’s like there are two Daehyuns: there’s Danny the porn star, and then there’s Daehyun. The lines blur sometimes, and Youngjae can’t keep them separate in his head. He tells himself he’s dating Daehyun, and not Danny.

He tells Daehyun his plans to look for a new job over shots at the bar. Well, Youngjae takes a shot, but Daehyun places his back on the counter and leans over to kiss the sticky residue from Youngjae’s lips, leaving him breathless.

“That’s amazing,” Daehyun says. “That’s so great for you, Youngjae! You should go for it.” He beams, eyes bright in the flashing lights of the club. He steps right in between Youngjae’s legs and kisses him again, and Youngjae’s heart leaps in his chest.

“What about--” Youngjae starts, only to be interrupted by another kiss. “Mmf! What about us?”

“What _about_ us?” Daehyun asks, pulling back with a little twist in his lips. “Youngjae?” he asks, when Youngjae remains silent.

He’s not sure what made him ask that question. What about them? Youngjae would eventually find a job and move and Daehyun would stay here and work for boysclub.com and Youngjae would never see him again. Probably.

“Youngjae--”

“Danny.” One of the handlers in the club comes over then, his suit a start contrast to Daehyun’s little black shorts and tank top.

“Five minutes,” Daehyun says, looking at Youngjae, but the handler exhales, annoyed.

“C’mon. I already gave you an extra five for your break. The table over there wants a dance.” He gestures, and Daehyun follows the movement with his eyes.

He frowns, turning back to Youngjae with his finger up like he’s telling a puppy not to go on the rug. “Don’t you dare run away,” he says. “We should talk about -- whatever this is. Okay?”

There’s a little shudder in his voice at the end, but Daehyun swallows, and Youngjae does not point it out.

.


	2. Chapter 2

Youngjae has been coming to the club on the weekend evenings when Daehyun works for the past few weeks, stopping in for a drink and a chat while he waits for his shift to finish. The bartender and Daehyun's handler have gotten to know his face, but the bartender is the one who levels him with a sympathetic stare every time Daehyun is called away.

“You’re a better man than me,” he tells Youngjae this time, as he watches Daehyun weave through the crowd to reach the stairs that go up into the small VIP loft section of the club. It’s dark up there, with the occasional flash of colorful lights.

“Pardon?” Youngjae asks, turning back to the bartender on his stool.

“You look like you could use a drink,” the bartender says with a quirk in his eyebrow.

Youngjae nods, and he fixes him a simple gin and tonic that he nurses while the pulsing beat of the music echoes in his ears. The lights dance in the ice cubes of his drink, and the bartender walks away to talk to the thirsty club-goers at the other end of the counter.

Tonight, since Daehyun has been called up to the VIP section, Youngjae can’t watch him work, so he isn’t too sure what he’s doing. He’s seen him on stage and he’s seen him behind the bar. There was one night Daehyun didn’t want Youngjae to wait for him at all, and when he asked why Daehyun had merely responded: “It’s Requests-from-the-Audience night.”

The details of Daehyun’s contract with boysclub.com are a mystery to Youngjae. From what he gathers, Daehyun is in their films and has to make a couple of appearances a month at one of the company’s many bars littered in major cities across the States. He has a company SNS account that keeps interested viewers up-to-date on his possible location, teasing where he’s going to make that appearance. They’ve flown him out to New York, to Atlanta, and to Chicago, but lately they’ve been sticking to Los Angeles.

Youngjae likes watching him on stage, but when he’s on stage he’s Danny. Actually, when he’s in the club he’s Danny, going around in little black shorts and boots and a top that can hardly be considered a top, laughing when someone offers to buy him a drink, flirting, teasing, dancing. Youngjae has seen him expertly turn away from wandering hands, wagging his finger, has seen him get on his knees and rub glitter into his skin under hot lights.

But what he really likes is when Daehyun leaves the club and then it’s just the two of them. Daehyun washes the glitter from his skin and cuddles next to him against the headboard of his bed and they watch dumb dramas together and yell at the protagonists. Daehyun always smells faintly peppery, which has a strange effect on Youngjae’s gut when his kisses are so sweet. He likes getting coffee with him and telling him he uses too much sugar, yelping when Daehyun dumps a couple of spoonfuls into Youngjae’s own in vengeance. He likes holding his hand and brushing his thumb over the back of it, watching the way Daehyun’s eyelashes flutter when they lean in close to each other.

He just -- likes Daehyun.

He thinks about what Daehyun is doing up in the VIP section, in the dark. It’s his work. Thinking about it and getting jealous would be like Daehyun getting jealous of all the time Youngjae spends chopping up soundbytes and putting them back together. Still, he can’t help but be a little jealous, knowing that Daehyun is smiling that bright smile up at a stranger with a fat wad of bills in his hand and not at Youngjae.

He finishes his drink, and then he asks for another.

.

Youngjae is pretty sure he’s not as drunk as Daehyun thinks he is.

The steps up to his apartment are just steeper and curvier than normal, and the doorknob keeps moving from out of his grasp.

“Woah woah woah,” Daehyun says from somewhere underneath him, grunting a little as he pushes Youngjae back up onto his feet. “I got this. Gimme -- Gimme your keys, jeez. How did you even get this drunk?”

“I’m not drunk,” Youngjae thinks he says, and he makes an astounding case for it by tripping over his own shoes as soon as he steps into his apartment, and Daehyun has to catch him by the waist again.

Daehyun. He smells like lemons and pepper. Like sweat. Youngjae buries his nose into that scent, laps it up with his tongue.

“Jae,” Daehyun whines, stumbling through his apartment to Youngjae’s bedroom after managing to wrestle his and Youngjae’s shoes off, laughing a bit at Youngjae’s repeated attempts to kiss him properly. “You smell like the bottom of a barrel right now and I’d rather not.”

“But I wanna,” Youngjae breathes against Daehyun’s neck, and then he feels the soft comfort of his bed underneath him. He rolls into the sheets, laughing at his partner's startled ‘oomf!’ at being dragged down on top of him. “I _wanna_.”

“Ugh, you big baby,” Daehyun says, but leans down to kiss him, grinning against his lips. “I guess we’re not having that talk yet,” he murmurs.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Let go -- let me take your pants off.”

Youngjae hums, and lifts his hips to help Daehyun work his jeans off of him, fingers sliding down his thighs as the fabric bunches, a triumphant bark of laughter when his legs are free of the denim. He groans when Daehyun cups him, over his briefs, lightly pressing and massaging him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hisses, lifting his hips again, seeking more friction.

“Are you even going to be able to?” Daehyun asks with a teasing lilt to his voice. The bed squeaks as he shifts, fitting himself between Youngjae’s legs. “You had _so_ much to drink.”

“I guess we’ll find out,” Youngjae manages between his teeth. Daehyun snaps the elastic of his briefs against his sensitive skin and Youngjae yelps at the sudden flare of heat it brings with it. “Hey!”

“If you pass out on me,” Daehyun says, still palming Youngjae’s growing hardness. “I’m gonna be so mad.”

“I’m not going to pass out,” Youngjae complains. “I promise. Just--” He feels hot all over, and then Daehyun leans down to lick along the line of elastic, soothing the heat there. “--Jesus, _fuck_.”

“Fine.”

Then he’s gone. Youngjae whines, opening his eyes, about to sit up onto his elbows when the bed dips again, and then it’s Daehyun’s hot silky skin against his, and they are kissing. Youngjae sighs into his mouth as Daehyun wrangles his briefs off of him, tossing the underwear off the bed.

“I was just getting naked,” Daehyun says, which makes Youngjae giggle.

Youngjae reaches down and finds Daehyun naked as promised, hovering over him on his elbows and knees. His hands roam over the soft skin until he reaches the globes of his ass, and he squeezes. Daehyun gasps, pushing forward, so Youngjae does it again.

The next few moments are a blur. Youngjae is drunk, mostly aware, but everything spins when he tries to put it all together in his head. He gets flashes of intense feeling, and these are the things he thinks he will remember in the morning:

Daehyun preps himself over Youngjae because Youngjae’s fingers won’t listen to his brain at the moment, as Youngjae fists his own dick sloppily, pumping until he’s hard.

Daehyun rolls the condom onto Youngjae and kisses the tip of his dick over it, laughing. He comes up and they kiss again, for a long time, and Youngjae thinks he is content just to hold him for the rest of the night until Daehyun mewls and the sound shoots straight down to his groin. Then Daehyun hovers over him again.

Then Daehyun sinks down onto him, and Youngjae watches as he disappears inside of him, watches Daehyun start to ride him, his mouth open in a lazy ‘o’. When Daehyun leans forward over his chest, lips hot and wet against Youngjae’s, Youngjae knows he’s done for.

He comes and bites down on Daehyun’s bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth as Daehyun moans, seeing stars.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it was just gonna be a blow job but then i thought where's the fun in that.


	3. Chapter 3

In the morning, Youngjae is hungover. Not like, the useless sort of hungover that lingers for the whole day, a pounding behind his eyes and in his joints and his mouth dry and stomach revolting; he's _just_ hungover enough to question why he drank so much, and _just_ hungover enough to groan into his pillow and refuse to wake up until required to.

The door creaks open then, and Youngjae groans again, because that means Daehyun is up and about. He reaches out across the bed into the cool empty space to confirm, pouting. He'd much rather be cuddling than anything Daehyun is about to suggest right now, which is:

"Rise and shine, Jae. We've got to get to the studio in two hours."

"No," Youngjae says plainly, judging Daehyun to be within arms' reach of the bed. He flings an arm out and it connects with soft muscle.

"Hey!"

A laugh follows that is muffled when Youngjae pulls Daehyun to him, wrestling him down onto the bed and wrapping his arms around his middle when Daehyun shrieks and struggles, stilling when Youngjae presses his lips to the back of Daehyun’s neck and sighs.

“I just fixed my hair,” Daehyun complains, an odd quality to his voice.

“I’m sure it looks fine,” Youngjae breathes into the fine hairs. Daehyun is warm and solid and Youngjae doesn’t want to move. “I’m sorry I passed out on you, after all,” he murmurs, sinking into that warmth, sleep still pressing in on him like a cocoon.

Daehyun doesn’t say anything. He senses a shift in the air, like the sun sliding behind a curtain of clouds.

It makes him tense and open his eyes.

“Were you going to break up with me last night?” Daehyun asks, forcing nonchalance, and Youngjae realizes the odd quality in Daehyun’s voice had been uncertainty.

The first word out of Youngjae’s mouth barely forms, surprise wrenching the breath out of him. “What?”

Daehyun’s shoulders become a hard, straight line, the knobs of his spin visible at the low collar of his shirt.

“Why would I--” Youngjae continues, arms tightening involuntarily around Daehyun’s middle. “No, of course not. Why would -- what made you think that?”

But Daehyun is silent, and Youngjae feels the warmth seeping away from him, like it is being leached from his body.

“You were talking about -- finding a new job and moving across the country,” Daehyun says, face turned into the pillow. Youngjae wishes he would turn around so he could see him. “And you wanted to talk about _us_. That usually means--”

“ _God_ ,” Youngjae interrupts, embarrassed to be so ineffective at conversation that he was taken _so_ off the mark. “I wasn’t even in the _realm_ of thinking about that.”

But the line of Daehyun’s shoulders does not soften. Daehyun had been thinking Youngjae was going to break up with him but hadn’t mentioned anything, hadn’t given anything away until just now. So what was last night, then? A final hoorah?

He loosens his hold only to cup the curve of Daehyun’s shoulder and guide him around, meeting some resistance before Daehyun follows his movements, turning on the bed. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes dark and glassy. Youngjae’s stomach flutters.

“I promise I wasn’t thinking that at all,” Youngjae says again, slower and softer. “I guess,” he continues, chewing on his lip for a moment. “I guess I was trying to figure some things out -- about us. Though. I mean -- I guess I was trying to figure out if you were serious about us.”

Daehyun’s face falls, eyes ducking. “You still need to figure that out?” he mumbles. It makes Youngjae feel like a jackass, especially remembering last night.

“I think I know,” Youngjae says. “It’s just weird sometimes because I’m not sure if I’m dating you or if I’m dating Danny--”

“Excuse me?”

“You know,” Youngjae hedges. He takes in the sudden change in Daehyun’s demeanor. The flush has crept up higher and taken on more color, two angry spots of red on his cheeks. His lips are pressed together in a tight line. For some reason, Youngjae feels like he’s treading on thin ice. He rubs his hand over Daehyun’s upper arm in an attempt to soothe, even as the words keep spilling from his lips. “Like, _you_ are great. I love dating Daehyun. But Danny? That’s the guy in front of the camera or in the club. That’s not really--”

“Who I am?” Daehyun finishes, a bite to his voice, like he’s working on a particularly tough piece of meat.

“...Yeah,” Youngjae finishes weakly.

Daehyun says, “No, that’s not how it works. I’m not two people. That person in front of the camera is this person right here. And this is what you get. You can’t split me down the middle like that. You don’t get to choose to be in a relationship with _part of me._ ”

It’s the quiet sort of anger that Youngjae has never seen from Daehyun before. He’s used to sarcasm and jibes, harsh judgment and playful banter, but the only word Youngjae can think of to describe how Daehyun is presenting right now is _seething._ It’s a quick escalation of feelings, and Youngjae wonders if maybe Daehyun isn’t really seeing _Youngjae_ right now.

So he backtracks. “Of course I know that! That’s not -- you’re twisting up what I’m trying to say--”

“You don’t like that I do porn,” Daehyun says stiffly. He blinks, and then he sits up in one quick, fluid motion, and Youngjae’s hand drops to the mattress. “You don’t like that I get fucked on camera for money. _I get it._ It’s okay. I’ll just -- fuck -- no, let me go, Youngjae.”

Youngjae doesn’t. Daehyun had shifted to the edge of the bed, getting ready to stand, but Youngjae can’t leave it like this. He’d reached out and taken Daehyun’s hand.

“Dae,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

Daehyun’s frame seems to shrink in front of him. His hand slips from Youngjae’s grasp. “I have to get to the studio early, anyway. I’ll see you there, okay?”

Youngjae watches him go, feeling a bit like the bed is trying to swallow him whole.

.


	4. Chapter 4

Everyone is already there when Youngjae finally stumbles through the door of the apartment, two iced coffees in hand -- one for Daehyun -- and another apology ready to fall from his lips. He’d thought about it a lot over the past few hours. Youngjae has never considered himself a particularly narrow-minded person; he recycles regularly, keeps himself updated on current events and tries to watch both sides of the news, is aware enough to acknowledge that he has biases and opinions but keeps them mostly in check and open to have them changed.

In fact, he’d told Daehyun what he thinks about the scene they’re setting up to film today: Daehyun is supposed to be an international student coming over to an older student’s place for some English help. “It’s bordering weird fetish territory, not to mention totally inappropriate and offensive,” he remembers telling Daehyun over dinner a couple of evenings ago.

Daehyun had shrugged. They were sitting on Youngjae’s couch not really watching some documentary playing on his laptop, picking at their take-out. “It pays the bills.”

“There are other ways to pay the bills,” Youngjae had said, without really thinking, stuffing half an eggroll into his mouth at once.

Now, he wonders if that had been the wrong thing to say. They’d finished the documentary after, and cleaned up, and it hadn’t come up again.

“Hi,” someone says to his left. “Hey, we haven’t met yet. I’m Tyler.” He holds out his hand. Youngjae looks down at his own hands, occupied by the coffees. Tyler smiles, sheepish, and lowers his hand.

The other man is tall, with broad shoulders and a dark shadow of scruff over the bottom half of his face. He’s handsome in a rugged sort of way, and Youngjae can picture him easily posing for some calendar series filled with photographs of partially-dressed men at work. His arms look thick and corded underneath the fabric of his black v-neck shirt.

“Youngjae,” Youngjae greets, lifting one of the coffees. “You’re the tutor?”

“Yeah,” Tyler says. “And you? They didn’t mention there’d be another--”

“I’m the sound guy,” Youngjae says, frowning. “I’m not in the scene.”

Tyler grins, teeth flashing white, and Youngjae rolls his eyes, annoyed at how eager Tyler had seemed just now. “Sorry, man. There aren’t very many guys who do the behind-the-scenes stuff in porn who are good-looking, so I just thought--”

“Have you seen Daehyun?” Youngjae interrupts, quickly losing patience.

“Who?”

“Danny,” he corrects. “Have you seen Danny.”

“Oh yeah, he’s over there, by the kitchen.”

Youngjae brushes past him with a quick word of thanks, his annoyance with himself making his annoyance with this man intolerable. He finds Daehyun rather easily as the director leaves him at the breakfast bar, and Youngjae is reminded of the first day he’d met Daehyun, how Daehyun had asked him out for dinner right there.

“Coffee?” he asks when Daehyun doesn’t look up from his phone. He even jiggles the cup around so that the ice cubes rattle against each other.

“Oh,” Daehyun says. They’ve put him in a backwards snapback and t-shirt, and he’s wearing a backpack. Youngjae wonders, if they’d met in college, if Daehyun would have looked like this then. He realizes that when he’s not smiling, Daehyun’s entire frame seems more narrow, like he’s been pared down to his essential parts. “Thanks.”

“It’s mostly simple syrup and milk,” Youngjae says with a wry grin.

Daehyun says, “You didn’t have to.”

He goes back to his phone, and Youngjae knows he hasn’t been forgiven yet. Daehyun can hold a grudge like a dog onto a chewtoy, but when he lets it go, it’s gone forever. They’ve fought about dumb things before; this doesn’t feel like one of them.

.

Danny doesn’t get very many speaking lines in this film. Daehyun hadn’t complained. He mostly just has to look wide-eyed and hesitant as he enters the apartment, shy and flushed when Tyler guides him to the couch. They pretend to read over some text for a fake assignment and Tyler hovers over Danny, hands starting to roam, as Tyler spills some atrocious line about needing to take the edge off things, to relax, you’ll get it, Danny. To put aside the books and let the real education begin. Welcome to America.

Youngjae snorts, because it’s _horrendous_ , and they have to do another take of the scene. Luckily, it was because Tyler had messed up a word in all that ugly dialogue and not because of Youngjae’s inability to contain himself.

They do, and that’s when clothes start coming off.

They sit on the couch and Tyler pulls the snapback from Danny’s head, and his hair ruffles for a moment before settling. He pulls Danny’s shirt up next, smiling against his lips when Danny gasps, playing shy, hands coming up to cover his chest.

“No, no, no,” Tyler says, “you’re beautiful.”

And it keeps going like this. And Youngjae watches, swallows, watches. Tyler reveals Danny piece by piece, crowding him down against the couch. He tells him to turn over. He tells him he’s going to make him feel so good. He mouths at Danny’s shoulder before traveling down, down, down, and then he bites into the supple flesh of Danny’s ass.

Danny twitches, mouth open in a gasp, fingers clenched against the cushions.

There’s lube and condoms in the coffee table. Of _course_ there is -- it’s a porno, after all. Tyler promises Danny he’s going to make him feel _so good_ , again, biting and humming and rubbing his scruff over the sensitive marks he’s leaving on Danny’s -- Daehyun’s -- body.

It’s Daehyun up there, Youngjae thinks, gut tightening. It’s always been Daehyun up there and those marks aren’t going to go away once filming ends. Danny doesn’t go away once filming ends. He thought he was being kind, trying to keep the two separate in his mind. He thought that was what Daehyun wanted, for someone to like him outside of his sexuality, but he’d never asked, had he? He’d simply disregarded it altogether.

Daehyun groans, and the camera man hustles to change the angle of the camera to get Tyler’s fingers glistening in lube pumping in and out of Daehyun quickly. He’d already been prepped, before, so Daehyun can take them without a problem, but his fingers are thick, and he’s biting his bottom lip with his eyes screwed shut to try to adjust silently. The camera doesn’t capture that, but Youngjae’s watching.

When Tyler starts to fuck him Youngjae gets worried. Is this what the director had wanted? Had they talked about this beforehand? Daehyun looks boneless on the couch, barely reacting except to moan or pant, spitting out phrases when Tyler tells him to. “Feels good,” he whispers, back arched exposing the line of his throat. He swallows and his Adam’s apple bobs before his head drops between his shoulders and he wails.

Tyler smirks, grunting. “Found your sweet spot, baby.”

He keeps thrusting, his dick like a rod. Youngjae wonders for the first time if he even knows what he’s doing. If he’s really making Daehyun feel good or if Daehyun’s just pretending, acting, whatever. If it hurts.

Before he comes he pulls out so quickly that Daehyun sobs, hole spasming, before he’s on his back and Tyler’s jacking off onto his chest and face. Daehyun opens his mouth to catch some of the jizz as the camera man closes in for the money shot.

Then it’s over. Youngjae hopes they don’t have to do any of that again.

.


	5. Chapter 5

One of the set hands tosses Daehyun a couple of Wet Wipes for his face and chest as the lights are taken down. Everything happens so quickly and smoothly, a bunch of cogs in a strange porn machine, and Youngjae takes a moment just to watch, amazed he hasn’t really taken the time to before; the set is stripped and it leaves Youngjae feeling like he’s the one exposed.

Tyler is already changing in one of the spare rooms. Youngjae heard him talking about how he is going out tonight with a couple of friends, how they’ve gotten a table at a club and how he can’t wait to check out the girls that are going to be there. The camera pulls back, and the lights come down. Youngjae stows away the microphone and associated cables, and Daehyun cleans himself up.

Daehyun rolls over on the couch and gingerly puts his feet onto the floor, and it seems to Youngjae that he has to build some inner momentum within himself in order to stand. The case Youngjae is coiling all the cables into clicks shut as Daehyun stumbles over to the bathroom with his bag of clothes and closes the door behind him.

The director is already looking at what material they have. Youngjae watches him high-five the camera guy because of a particularly good shot. He hears them exchange a few words about where this can go on the website. Youngjae inhales and exhales purposefully, and then he strides over to the bathroom.

He knocks.

“Just a minute,” comes Daehyun’s muffled voice on the other side. Youngjae jiggles the knob and eases it open, slipping through the crack and shutting the door behind him as Daehyun curses. “Jesus, just a minute -- what is your--”

He falls silent when he sees it’s Youngjae. Then he turns around to show Youngjae his back. “What do you want?” he mumbles, voice strangely hollow in the echoing space of the bathroom.

“I wanted to see if you were okay,” Youngjae says, stepping forward. Daehyun’s shoulders hunch reflexively.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“I’m wearing a towel in the bathroom of an apartment where I just got fucked. Can we not do this right now?” He turns back around as he speaks, and Youngjae’s suspicions are confirmed: Daehyun’s eyeliner is smudged, his cheeks ruddy and damp. He sniffs, unable to hold back a fresh wave of tears pooling in his eyes, and Youngjae’s heart clenches in his chest. “Can we not do this right now?” Daehyun says again, voice wavering, pleading.

“I’m so sorry,” Youngjae whispers, unable to say anything else. Daehyun blinks and tears trail down his cheeks. Youngjae’s never seen him cry before. “I’m so, so sorry, Daehyun.” He holds his hands out, but Daehyun crosses his arms across his chest.

“All this time,” Daehyun starts, quiet, still shaking his head. “You’ve been watching, thinking it’s just Danny. It’s just Danny on the couch, or in the bed. Like I’m a little Ken doll or something. It’s okay,” he says, even though it’s clearly not. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“I don’t think that,” Youngjae whispers. “Not anymore,” he adds, because it’s the truth.

Daehyun’s face crumples. “Fuck, Youngjae. I liked you _so much._ ”

“Hey, what’s that now? Daehyun, what are you--”

“I can’t be your little Ken doll, your little Danny boy. There was someone -- god, it drove me _crazy_ , and I won’t do it again, I won’t do that to myself again, if that’s what you want, too.”

“That’s not what I want,” Youngjae says immediately, wondering how things jumped so quickly. He has a feeling Daehyun’s been thinking about this for a long time. “That’s not what I want at all.”

When Daehyun tries to step around him, tries to get away, Youngjae moves quickly, taking hold of his shoulders gently and swinging them both around to press up against the glass door of the shower. Daehyun stands there, barely breathing, looking like all he wants to do is curl up into a ball and cry.

“I don’t care that you do porn,” Youngjae says slowly, but Daehyun still flinches, trying to shrug his shoulders from Youngjae’s loose grasp. He lets his hands slide down to the tops of Daehyun’s forearms, holding him. “That’s what I thought, anyway,” Youngjae says. “But, maybe I do care, and the things I said about you were probably because of that. I’m sorry -- I’m really sorry. I was stupid. I thought I was being this great noble guy, separating you in my head like that, but I was just being a dick.”

Daehyun keeps his eyes lowered for a very long moment as Youngjae holds his breath. If Daehyun runs, he’s going to let him go.

But he doesn’t run.

He licks his lips and says hesitantly, “I would rather have -- done this at your apartment or something, Youngjae.” His eyeliner is a mess. He can’t walk out of the bathroom looking like this.

“I know,” Youngjae says. “Fuck, god, I’m such a dick. God, fuck.” He steps back, letting his arms fall to his own sides. “I was thinking about this all day. I really was. You don’t deserve to be thought of like that, like you were saying. No one does. So I know I messed up, but, like, I still -- care about you? So much. It came out all wrong before. I really _do_ want to know if you’re serious about us, because _I’m_ serious about us, you know? So are you?”

Daehyun’s lip twitches in a phantom smile. His uses his thumb to wipe under his own eye, laughing at his reflection in the mirror. “I’m a mess,” he says.

“I can help you fix that,” Youngjae offers.

Daehyun kisses him, a light, chaste thing that makes butterflies flutter in Youngjae’s stomach, and then he covers the short distance to the counter and sits upon it as Youngjae wets a spare towel to wipe under his eyes. Their breathing syncs up. Youngjae tries to keep the press of the towel sweet and smooth.

“You’re not being a dick,” Daehyun tells him when he’s moved on from his right eye to his left. “I freaked out. I’m sorry. I have a bit of a history.”

“You never told me,” Youngjae says. Their faces are close together now. He can see the way Daehyun’s eyelashes fan over the tops of his cheeks when he blinks.

“Didn’t seem important,” Daehyun says.

“I want to know,” Youngjae tells him. “I want to treat you better.” He gasps in alarm when Daehyun’s eyes wet again, wiping quickly underneath them with the towel and then just with the soft pads of his fingers. “ _Oh_. Oh, Daehyun.”

“The shit you say,” Daehyun breathes, smiling. He’s still in a towel. When he spreads his knees for Youngjae to stand between, the cloth parts and falls between his thighs. They kiss again, and it’s so, so good.

.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what am i doing? who knows?


	6. Chapter 6

Tonight the club is done up in Winter Wonderland paraphernalia, fairy lights strung up across the dark rafters and huge glistening plastic snowflakes descending on wires from the ceiling. There’s a Christmas tree near the bar but the ornaments are all shot glasses. Daehyun hollers in laughter when he sees it, making Youngjae promise they’ll take shots from it later, when his shift is nearing its end.

The bartender greets him over the loud music as Daehyun scampers away, clad in gunmetal leggings and big boots and a thin tank top. Youngjae himself is bundled up for the snow outside, not really caring to dress up for the club since he’s not looking for anyone’s attention, anyway. “You look like an engineer,” Daehyun had said, ruffling his hair before fitting a skull-cap beanie over it neatly, fingers brushing over the shell of his ear.

Youngjae grinned. “Should I be offended?”

“No,” Daehyun said. “You look smart. And cuddly. I love this sweater; it makes you look like a teddy bear.”

Youngjae had sighed and kissed him on the nose and put an extra pair of gloves in his jacket pockets for Daehyun on the way home since he always seemed to lose them before his shift ended.

The bartender taps the counter in front of Youngjae, drawing him out of his little daydream about his warm, quiet apartment. “The usual?” he asks.

Youngjae nods.

As he fixes him his drink, Youngjae brings out his phone, elbows comfortable on the counter, to read the email he’s been thinking about all day for the _nth_ time. He skims through the name, scrolls down to the signature with a company logo, and then back up to the main body of it.

_On behalf of T.S. Enterprises, I am pleased to offer you the position of Systems Engineer._

He still can’t quite believe it. He feels a grin stretch across his face as he reads the words again. He hasn’t shared this with any of his friends yet, because he wants Daehyun to be the first.

“Someone send you nudes?” the bartender asks, putting the drink down in front of him. He’s smirking.

Youngjae rolls his eyes. “No. Just good news.”

.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just bring a change of clothes with you,” Youngjae very nearly growls, rubbing at Daehyun’s arms over his coat, even though his legs are the limbs that are about to freeze off of him. “Or pants,” he clarifies. “Just pants.”

“L-lockers,” Daehyun manages, teeth chattering. He crowds against Youngjae in the elevator going up to his apartment. His nose and cheeks are a bit red, as are the tips of his ears poking out from under Youngjae’s beanie. “Not secure. Besides, it’s n-not that far.”

“You’ll catch a cold.”

“M-maybe I just like when y-you make me hot chocolate.”

“I’d make you hot chocolate anyway,” Youngjae tells him, drawing him close. They walk down the hallway as a unit, and Daehyun burrows into his side.

“I know,” Daehyung says cheekily, smiling into Youngjae’s coat.

Once they’re inside it’s quick work shedding their winter clothes in the living room as Youngjae fixes them both hot chocolate, as promised, only to find Daehyun buried under multiple throw blankets on the couch when he gets there.

“Hot chocolate. Shower. Sleep,” Youngjae lists, putting the mugs down on the coffee table.

“No. Hot chocolate. Couch. Maybe you can carry me. I don’t want to expose myself to the elements.”

“There are no elements in here.”

“Okay, then maybe I don’t want to _expose_ myself.”

Youngjae gapes at his boyfriend, at the slow Cheshire cat grin spreading across his face. “Daehyun, are you naked right now?”

“Maybe,” Daehyun drawls.

“I thought you were cold.”

“Well, I’m not anymore, am I?” Daehyun says, eyeing the throw blankets.

Youngjae sits down and Daehyun draws his legs up to make room, an ankle slipping out from underneath the multiple layers, and Youngjae wraps a hand around it.

Daehyun hisses. “Your fingers are cold!”

“Stop being a baby.” Youngjae grins, trailing his fingers up Daehyun’s calves as the other man whines. “I wanted to share news with you. I even put Bailey’s in the hot chocolate.”

“Good news?” Daehyun asks, a flash of apprehension in his eyes.

Youngjae hesitates. “I think so.”

“Okay,” Daehyun says. “Shoot.”

“I got the job,” Youngjae announces. “With T.S. They want to hire me.”

His heart pounds hard in his chest, waiting for Daehyun’s response. A mix of emotions flits across his face, but in the end Daehyun smiles, huge and bright, and sits up to fling his arms around him, dragging Youngjae back down onto the couch. Laughter bubbles up and out of his mouth at Daehyun’s reaction.

“That’s great! Oh my god, Youngjae. Congratulations! When do they want you? When would you start? Did you say yes?”

“Woah,” Youngjae says, now nearly flush against Daehyun’s front. He’d wound up under the covers, too. “Slow down. I didn’t -- accept yet? I wasn’t sure--”

“What the hell, dude?” Daehyun yells. “What aren’t you sure about? That’s like your dream job, isn’t it? I know you applied to a bunch of others but this is the one you really wanted, right?”

Youngjae swallows, unsure how to broach the subject. Finally, he reminds Daehyun, “It’s in New York. And I would start in two weeks.”

An audible thump when Daehyun’s head drops to the cushion. “Oh, yeah,” he whispers.

“I want the job,” Youngjae says. “But I like us. I _like us_ a lot, here, together. Can we be honest? Would it be the same, if I moved?”

Daehyun is silent for so long Youngjae thinks he’s not going to answer. Then he cups Youngjae’s face and draws him down to kiss him, so soft it hardly feels like a kiss, but at the same time it feels like the best kiss Youngjae’s ever had.

“There’s a location out in New York,” Daehyun says. “With Boysclub. It wouldn’t be the same but we could try it. I could visit. Maybe, if you wanted me to.”

“Long distance,” Youngjae murmurs, heart heavy at the prospect. The odds aren’t good. “Of course I’d want you to.”

“You have to take the job, Youngjae. It’s your dream job. We’ll -- work ourselves out. I know we will.”

Youngjae can’t help it; Daehyun looks flushed and pretty from the cold, still, eyes gleaming and determined, so he presses another kiss against his lips, a hunger he’s never felt before making him groan. “You think we can make it.”

“I think we can make it,” Daehyun whispers, when he can, when Youngjae pulls back to kiss along his jawline, down his neck.

Daehyun takes a little packet of lube and a condom out of one of the pockets of his jacket on the floor, grinning when Youngjae makes a face at him, but after that it’s everything grinding down into singular, heady sensations.

He preps Daehyun carefully, almost like it’s the first time, and Daehyun’s eyes never leave Youngjae’s except when they close because Youngjae’s fingers have brushed over his prostate. He sucks bruises into Daehyun’s skin and Daehyun makes his own marks, fingers digging in and teeth scraping against Youngjae’s collarbones. Daehyun is naked but Youngjae only works his jeans off over the swell of his ass, enough so he can line himself up against Daehyun and press in, until the cold metal of his belt buckle is making an outline in the soft flesh of Daehyun’s inner thigh, warming slowly.

Daehyun kisses him as Youngjae thrusts, sucking his tongue into his mouth and moaning, pliant and lovely. It’s the most quiet they’ve both ever been.

When they are done, sated and sticky and breathing deep and heavy against each other, Youngjae tells him he loves him, and Daehyun returns the same.

“We’re gonna be okay,” Daehyun says, soft smile on his lips, and Youngjae believes him.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in my head the next time they have sex dae tops and tells him, i think we can go the distance, and youngjae kind of glares like you had better not break out into disney song right now and dae grins and says, well you mentioned it first, and fucks him while singing "i can go the distance" from hercules.

**Author's Note:**

> [writing](http://andnowforyaya.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/andnowforyaya)


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